


Unwound

by rabidchild67



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sounding, Tentacles, Vulcan Peen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 14:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5007787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim talks Spock into starting their shore leave early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwound

**Author's Note:**

> This is a birthday gift for my lovely vulcan-science.

“Spock, it is now 17:04 ship's time.”

“I fail to see the significance of the time.”

“Don't you?” Jim asks, trying his best to sidle up sexily behind his lover and second in command. Spock sits at the desk, straight-backed, working with typical single-mindedness on finishing up some report or other. Jim’s not sure what it could be—probably something riveting about growth rates of Rigellian butt slimes—and he could not care less. What he does care about is the fact they are both one evening away from leaving the ship on a long-overdue vacation. Two weeks exploring the rain forests of Risa, though if Jim has his way they’ll be exploring each other’s bodies instead. He slips his arms around Spock and mouths at the delicate tip of a pointed right ear, watching with satisfaction as the hair along the back of his neck stands on end. “Why, our leave began 4 minutes ago.”

“Our transport does not disembark until 0844 tomorrow morning.”

“There's no reason we can't begin now is there? Unwind a little?” Jim pivots his head around so he can see the eyebrow-raise as it happens. The fact he runs his hands possessively down Spock's torso as he does has the effect he was after, as Spock lowers his PADD to the desk. “Our replacements have been thoroughly briefed and under Starfleet regulations we are only to be disturbed for emergency purposes. There's no reason we can't start vacationing right this very moment.” Jim returns to nibbling on Spock’s ear.

“Starfleet regulations, Jim? Which ones?”

“Oh, you know, the ones that count?” Jim breathes into Spock’s ear. “Isn’t there something about ensuring the mental, emotional, and physical well-being of the command crew?” He returns to his slow devouring of Spock’s ear even as he reaches out to power the PADD off. Spock shivers as Jim follows teeth with tongue, then twists his body around to deftly land himself in Spock's lap. “You don't want me to make it an order to get you to relax, Spock, because I can get mighty creative.” He takes Spock's face between his hands and kisses him sensually. 

When he pulls off, Spock looks at him with as serious an expression as a Vulcan with kiss-swollen lips can pull off. “That will not be necessary.”

Jim smiles. “Glad to hear it.” He licks at Spock's lips and they kiss once more, long and deep, until Jim feels a stirring against his ass. “Ooo,” he purrs. “Somebody's awake.” 

Spock gives him a long-suffering look. “Jim, I have explained to you repeatedly the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ have no sentience.” 

“And I have told you that I think that's bullshit,” Jim says sweetly, worming his hands between them to open Spock’s pants. “Come on, let the girls out to play!” Beneath his hands, still unfortunately encumbered by Spock’s Starfleet-issue briefs, the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ twitch and writhe excitedly.

“I will refrain from reminding you it is illogical to gender them as well.” 

“Good, because you know I won't listen,” Jim replies before shoving his tongue into Spock's mouth as lewdly as he knows how. The small, needful sounds Spock makes go directly to Jim's dick. 

“Want you so bad,” Jim moans, coming up for air several moments later. “Want _this_ so bad.” It’s been nearly three years since the incident with Khan, two years into the five-year, boldy going, and Jim is tired. Damn tired. He can’t wait for this break to recharge his batteries. Spock says Vulcans don’t require vacations, but he’d readily agreed to go along with Jim on this trip. Jim knows he’s been spreading himself a bit too thin, but the responsibility he’d been given—command of the fleet’s flagship—made him feel like it was the second chance Pike would have given him. and he had been eager to prove himself. And prove himself he had, except according to his doctor, he was in need of some R &R. He suspected Spock and Bones had colluded, somehow, to get him to take this vacation now that he thought about it. _Had it been his idea?_

His thoughts are interrupted as Spock palms his crotch, rubbing the hardness he finds there and giving Jim a rare smile before they kiss once more. 

Jim feels a fluttering against his hand and looks down. It is Spock's _pi'riyeht-karlar_ , small tentacles that serve as secondary sexual organs. They remind Jim of the tendrils on the pole beans his grandmother used to grow back In Iowa. There are two of them that rise from either side of the base of Spock’s penis, perhaps 45 cm long when aroused. They’re slender, about the diameter of a human pinky at their base, tapering gently to a graceful tip. They have apparently snaked themselves out of Spock’s underwear and are now petting at Jim’s wrist lightly.

"Hello, my lovelies," Jim whispers encouragingly at the sage-colored appendages, lowering his hand to undo his pants finally and laughing at their eagerness to assist. They slither in alongside his wrist and, along with his own hand, help to bring out his dick. Their tips unfurl slowly, reminding Jim of a flower as they tremblingly caress his length, gently clamoring with each other for position. 

Jim rests his forehead against Spock's neck and watches with bemusement, until one of the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ begins to play rather insistently at his slit. Jim lowers his hand to make it stop—it’s too much stimulation too soon—and plays with the tiny tentacles themselves instead, teasing them, and reveling in the sensation as their silken skin trails along his hand and through his fingers. They take turns playing games with him, one of them eluding his grasp even as the other makes another attempt with the slit of his cock once more, refurling its tip so that it's at its thinnest and pushing in ever so slightly. Jim gasps as it pulls away, but then it joins its twin in twisting itself around Jim's hand and wrist once more, gently prizing his fingers open. It's clear to him what they want now—what they’re settling for now—this quid pro quo is long-practiced and familiar. Jim delivers, massaging their tips gently, as if they were the delicate, velvety ears of a pet cat. He feels them begin to thicken and get slick; Vulcan _pi'riyeht-karlar_ , like Vulcan penises, are self-lubricating.

Jim suppresses a shudder and gently brushes them off, reluctantly pushing himself off of Spock’s lap. “We are not naked enough,” he pronounces, pulling at Spock’s shirts. The Vulcan rises and allows Jim to strip them off, then takes care of his own pants as Jim also undresses. They kiss once more, then wander back to the rear of their shared cabin, to the bed. 

Spock sits but Jim kneels, and looks up to see a delighted half-smile on his lover’s face. He leans forward, reaching for Spock’s dick with his mouth only, like a hungry baby animal seeking its mother’s nourishment. A Vulcan penis is very much like a human’s, with the exception of the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ of course, and Jim delights in going down on Spock’s. Its skin is as soft as the twins’, with its covering of tiny villi giving it a velvet-like texture. It’s these that produce the natural lubricant when Spock is properly aroused, and though he is still dry for the moment, Jim has, in the past, gotten him to the point where he was fairly drenched. It is a point of personal pride.

As Jim takes him into his mouth, Spock spreads his legs and leans into it with a satisfied groan and a hand at the back of Jim’s head. Spurred on, Jim tongues at the head of his dick teasingly, only mouthing it briefly before once more pulling off and planting light kisses down the shaft. A _pi'riyeht-kar_ pinches at Jim’s nipple sharply in retaliation. “Hey!” Jim laughs, scolding the tendril and not its owner. “Cheeky.”

Spock raises an eyebrow as Jim gets back to it, though he pays proper attention to the things he knows Spock likes now, with much less teasing. The _pi'riyeht-karlar_ repay his consideration, caressing his hollowed cheeks lovingly the longer he goes down on Spock. Jim swears they coo, though Spock always insists it’s a faulty air filter in the ceiling.

Jim’s jaw is beginning to ache when Spock catches his attention with a hand beneath his chin. Jim pulls off and lets Spock guide his face closer. As they kiss, Spock encourages Jim to rise. Jim looks at him; his eyes are dark with desire as he watches Jim get onto the bed on all fours. The bed dips, but only slightly as Spock himself gets to his knees. Jim moans with excitement as Spock spreads his cheeks with both hands, and squirms with pleasure as the flat of Spock’s tongue is pressed against Jim’s hole. 

Every part of Jim’s body, it seems, responds to what Spock is doing; when Spock licks him, it’s like every nerve ending is alight; as he moves in and out, tongue-fucking him, it’s as if fireworks are going off behind his eyes. “I could come right now from you doing just that,” he croaks out at length. 

“I do not think that prudent,” Spock comments in a voice deepened by desire. He pulls away and Jim cranes his head back to look at him; he’s resting his cheek on Jim’s ass and his hair is in disarray, dick hard and heavy between his legs. “But did you mean it as a challenge?” he adds breathlessly. The raised eyebrow means it is one he is keen to take on. 

“Yes. But not today.” He backs up off the bed, crowding Spock; it’s awkward as they both come to their feet and Spock catches Jim around his waist to steady him. Their positions are perfect, their bodies perfectly aligned back to front. Jim writhes his hips so that the crack of his ass rubs against Spock’s cock. Spock shudders and draws an uneven breath; he’s so wet Jim thinks about setting a towel down to catch the excess.

“I want you so bad, Spock,” Jim says, moving his hips as suggestively as he can. He thinks he sounds desperate, but he’s so ready for this shore leave, for this night to come, when they can leave their personas as “Captain” and “Commander” behind and just be Jim and Spock for two weeks, together. The thought of it has sustained him for weeks, and now here they are on the cusp of it. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” Spock says simply into Jim’s ear.

“Fuck me. Right now.”

Spock hesitates, and Jim knows why. On any other night they’d spend some time at preparation, make it part of their lovemaking. But tonight Jim has prepared to be fucked. He's ready for it, has been ready since earlier that morning when he'd primed himself with a particularly clever dildo that had been a gift from Gaila years ago. It was mutable, capable of taking the shape of the dicks of as many as 30 species and, even though there had not been a Vulcan option, Jim had spent months making his own modifications. Not only did the dildo look like a Vulcan penis, it looked a specific Vulcan’s. Sometimes Jim just likes to look at it, it’s so beautiful, but not that morning. He'd been hoping to be in just this situation tonight and there was no way he was going to waste unnecessary time with prepping himself, and well... it had turned out to be an interesting staff meeting. 

Jim twists around, reaching for Spock, and they kiss once more as the tip of Spock's dick burrows between Jim’s ass cheeks. “I wanna ride you,” Jim murmurs into the space between them when their lips part. “Come on, it’ll be so hot.”

“It will certainly provide me with a pleasing view,” Spock murmurs. Jim loves when he makes corny jokes, he really does.

Spock obligingly seats himself on the bed, legs spread and ready once more as Jim straddles him, backwards. “What do you think—reverse cowboy?”

“My observation regarding the view remains in effect.”

Jim laughs and kisses him, then gets into position, arm over Spock’s shoulders to brace himself. He can feel Spock’s breathing hitch as he lowers slowly, controlling the depth and rate of penetration himself, allowing his body time to adjust to the Vulcan's girth. He can feel new sweat breaking out on his back and chest as he concentrates on what he’s doing. At last, he bottoms out and leans back against his lover, groaning as their bodies shift slightly. Spock slides his arm around Jim's waist, pulling him closer, craning his head up to kiss. 

Moments later, when his body has adjusted to Spock's, Jim ends their kiss and begins to move, even if the position he's in limits it, he hopes Spock will take the hint and reciprocate. Naturally he does, shifting his hands to support Jim's ass as he pumps his hips up. As ever, Spock's sheer strength is a wonder, and the force of his thrusts are in perfect counterpoint to Jim's need for them. Never before had be had a lover as adept at reading him, and yeah ok: touch telepath, but dammit there had to be more to it than that. Spock had skills. Maybe that was it—he’s always a perfectionist in his work, why would he be any different in the bedroom?

“Gods!” Jim moans, surrendering to the sensation of Spock’s dick filling him, relaxing back against Spock and closing his eyes, letting him take control. Jim enjoys being dominated in bed, it wasn't something he thought much about, and it seems to please Spock to take charge. 

“I have made a study of your reactions,” he'd confessed once when Jim had been overly effusive in his praise after a particularly epic round of fucking. Jim had come three times—the last time completely dry—and had been wrecked and babbling

“You have? That's pretty sweet of you, Spock.”

Spock did that not-shrugging thing and explained, “Your pleasure is as much a driver for me as my own, why would I not?”

“Guess it helps that I'm a slut for it.”

Spock had smiled, kissing him to shut him up; Jim fell asleep a minute later and didn't realize Spock had tacitly agreed with him until later. 

Jim rouses as he feels a familiar fluttering around his dick. He glances down and sees that the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ have gotten back into the action and have snaked around his body to stroke him. Jim moans at the added stimulation. Spock, perhaps tiring, perhaps misreading Jim’s noise for discomfort, relaxes and lowers Jim back down. Jim takes the opportunity to clench his ass, his way of lodging a formal protest at the pause in the action. Spock moans into the cleft of his armpit, burying his nose there and nosing at the hairs like a cat seeking attention. Smiling, Jim cranes his head down to kiss him, long and slow and dirty.

The _pi'riyeht-karlar_ , however, have not stilled. One of them winds itself around the head of Jim’s dick, tightening just enough to be on the right side of painful, and the other prods at Jim’s taint. “Oh god!” Jim whines, panting at the overstimulation. 

He would swear the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ had minds of their own, or maybe it was the vaunted Vulcan touch telepathy. He's wanted to ask Spock for ages, but he gets the idea he doesn't really want to discuss it much, and far be it for him to ruin this particular mood. So when the one tentacle moves away from his taint and begins to play enticingly at his slit once more, Jim moans his approval, clutching at Spock’s head and breathing his name against the now-tangled mass of his hair as Spock plants kisses on any stretch of skin his mouth can reach. 

Jim watches, fuck-drunk, as the tentacle slowly furls its end into a gentle point and inserts itself into the opening to Jim’s dick. Its movement is slow at first, tentative, but Jim makes a concerted effort to relax—as hard as that is with a monster Vulcan cock stuffing him from behind and a second _pi'riyeht-kar_ holding his dick tight enough to leave a mark. Jim’s body adjusts quickly, however—this is not the first time the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ and he have had this particular adventure—and soon his body is actively pulling the tiny tendril in. 

Jim moans and collapses back limply against Spock, his senses very nearly overwhelmed. He can feel the _pi'riyeht-kar_ pulsing inside him, keeping time with the throbbing of the Vulcan dick in his ass. The _pi'riyeht-kar_ pulls slowly out of him, and Jim is vaguely aware that Spock has also begun to move. A moment later he realizes what is going on: he is being fucked in two places, dick and ass, in tandem, in perfect synchrony, and he is helpless in the face of it.

This realization has an immediate effect on him and he sobs, once, letting the pent up stress of the last two years flow out of him along with it. It’s a pretty simplistic means of stress relief, he knows, but who is he to argue with it—he’s a pretty simplistic guy. 

A moment later, he feels like he might come, and he signals to Spock, who draws the _pi'riyeht-kar_ from his body. It’s as if its removal brings Jim’s climax with it and he comes like an eruption. In the end he collapses on top of Spock, limbs splayed inelegantly. It’s only later, when there is Spock’s jizz oozing out of him, that he realizes they must have come together. 

They lie tangled up in the bedding later, tangled up in each other, Jim tracing lazy patterns in Spock’s chest hair. “Spock? Can I ask you a question? Promise you won’t get mad?” Jim asks.

“Jim I could no more be angry with you than I could change the tone of my skin to bright fuchsia.”

“Too bad, that would be kind of cool. Anyway, you know I don’t mean anything when I say your _pi'riyeht-karlar_ have a mind of their own, right? You know it’s me being a silly, sentimental human, right?”

“I think if I gave it more than a passing thought, that would be a natural conclusion.”

“Good.” Jim shifts closer to Spock and kisses him lazily. “Besides, I know they’re just a reflection of what you want anyway.”

Spock stiffens slightly and Jim knows he’s hit on some truth Spock perhaps doesn’t want known.

“I think they’re like a reflection of your id or something, like they’re as playful or as dirty as you wish you could be but you can never be. So they do it for you.”

“Am I that transparent, then?” Spock says with a certain coldness.

“It’s OK, you know, I love you no matter what, and I know it’s you that… that is making me feel so good, and feel so much.” Jim kisses him on the mouth and can feel him relax. “But if you wanted to, like, be playful with me—you know, just when it’s the two of us… well, I’m just saying you should. And not just let the _pi'riyeht-karlar_ be all that expresses that side of yourself.”

Jim pushes up so he can see Spock’s reaction. His eyes are inscrutable in the low light of their cabin, and Jim can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“You are saying I have leave to express my… ‘playful’ side when we are together?” Spock says slowly.

“Yeah, I mean. Totally. Whatever you want. I want you to be happy.”

Spock is silent for a moment, then with a lightning suddenness, Jim finds himself in a one-armed Vulcan headlock. 

“Spock! Hey, come on, I’m sorry!” Jim bleats, struggling futilely against Spock’s superior strength. “I didn’t mean to insult you, I…” 

Spock raises his other hand to rub viciously at Jim’s scalp with his knuckles.

“Did you… did you just give me a _noogie_?!” Jim exclaims, shocked.

“I am sorry, is this not an appropriate way to express my ‘playful side,’ Jim? Perhaps I ought to administer what is known as an ‘atomic wedgie.’ Would that be more appropriate?” He lets go, his face splitting into the equivalent of a Vulcan grin. 

“I didn’t mean you should be an asshole,” Jim protests grumpily.

“I know you tend in that direction, Jim, but what, then, am I?”

“Oh god, I think I may have created a monster.”

\----

Thank you for your time.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @mightymads for the Vulcan language help!!
> 
> The Golic word for tentacle translates as "false arm" and I could not be happier knowing that, honestly.


End file.
